Broken Barriers
by Sindarin.Ink
Summary: Kurt is competitive figure skater. Between training, glee club, and dealing with obnoxious homophobes, his life is incredibly stressful. When bullies at McKinley take things too far, will he be able to start anew?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

**Hiya. So, this is a figure skater!Kurt fic.**

**I don't own Glee or any of the characters.**

**Hope you enjoy :)**

**Chapter warning: homophobia, bit of violence, and cursing**

* * *

"Kurt, wake up."

Kurt groaned and tugged down the hood of his jacket, trying to block out the light.

"Kurtie, wakey wakey! Rise and shine." Jeff giggled and lightly shook Kurt's shoulder.

"Too early. Go away," Kurt said stiffly, turning away from his friend. He was exhausted- and slightly irritated that his rather pleasant dream was being interrupted.

"I refuse. This is for your own good. I will throw a cold energy drink at you." Jeff sounded far too happy, much to Kurt's displeasure. There was a brief silence when Kurt contemplated the threat. Even in his half-asleep state, he was perfectly aware that Jeff wasn't bluffing. The energetic blonde had done far worse in the past.

Jeff nudged him with his bottle of energy drink.

"Don't you dare. It's freezing in here. You're going to give me hypothermia and then Alice will kill you." Kurt sighed deeply. Jeff chuckled.

"Want to take a guess as to why you're cold?" he chirped.

Kurt didn't answer for a moment, but realization hit him when he felt hard metal digging into his back. Hastily blinking open his eyes, he took in his surroundings. He was in the all-too-familiar Westerville ice rink. "Oh my god!" he shrieked, his eyes widening.

He'd fallen asleep on the bleachers.

The bleachers.

That was not okay.

Jeff peered down as him with an expression that could only be described as amused. His lips curled up into a half-hearted, apologetic smile.

"Oh my god," Kurt repeated. "What time is it?" He tried to focus on deep breathing- to no avail. Alice, his coach, was normally tolerant and sweet-tempered. But, when she was angry, she was_ angry_. He shuddered to think of what would happen if his nap exceeded practice time.

Jeff checked his watch. "Five thirty in the morning. You have about 10 minutes until practice. And, you're already wearing your skates. That's convenient, considering that you may or may not have sleepwalked here all the way from Lima," he paused. "How long have you been here?"

Kurt slowly sat up and looked down to affirm that his feet were indeed clad in his black, newly sharpened skates. Taking a few moments to stretch his stiff ankles, he racked his brain for an explanation and came up with vague memories of driving to the rink earlier that morning.

"Hmm. I left Lima at like, four. Skated for a bit," Kurt said, groggily.

"It's Monday." His friend cocked his head to the side, giving him a look that said, _Are you serious?_

"Yup,"

"Now I feel like a monster for waking you up." Jeff pouted.

Kurt frowned. "Hey, don't be like that. I went to sleep earlier last night. Plus, I get first period off at McKinley this semester." It was true. Although, Alice had to practically fight the McKinley school board for Kurt to gain the extra hour of practice time for junior year. They eventually relented and allowed Kurt to arrive at second period, under the agreement that he would finish Calculus, his original first period class, as an online course credit.

"You should come to Dalton. I get first _and_ second period off. And it's ten minutes away from the rink."

Kurt decided that silence was the best response at that point. Jeff started bugging him about Dalton when they were both freshmen. Now, as a junior, he had yet to relent with the incessant nagging. Kurt knew his friend was looking out for his best interests. Burt and Carole wouldn't be able to afford tuition, though.

"What if you had a scholarship?" Jeff pointed out, as if he was reading his mind.

Kurt didn't have time for this. "No comment. Too early in the morning to make any sort of decision."

Jeff seemed to let it go of it for the time being and his attention began to travel elsewhere. "She's coming, by the way. Go warm up," he said as he walked towards to rink lobby.

Kurt arched a brow, confused. "Aren't you going to practice?" he called after him.

"My partner is otherwise engaged at the moment. Meaning that she's late. I will be sulking in the concessions booth and singing a heartfelt rendition of _All By Myself,_ whilst I question my life choices," his friend retorted.

Kurt rolled his eyes in amusement. He knew Jeff too well. Having known each other since they were 8, they were practically like brothers. They were the honorary we've-shared-the-same-practice-ice-for-years-and-we-end-up-seeing-each-other-six-hours-a-day-so-lets-be-best-friends type of brothers. But really, even Kurt became exasperated with his diva moments. Not that Kurt wasn't a partial diva himself.

Jeff preferred ice dancing to singles or pairs, so he had to synchronize his practice schedule with his partner, Luna. When one of them showed up late, Kurt often found himself unwillingly listening to their sobbing and/or ranting. He preferred to remain a neutral party in that eternal feud between his friends.

After he finished his stretching exercises, he stood up gingerly, hung his blade guards on a wire rack, and stepped onto the smooth ice.

He was alone. The floor was his.

It was his favorite time of the day- the time when there was often no other skaters on the ice. The rink ran the public and freestyle sessions between nine and five, but the rest of the day was private ice time for any junior-level or senior-level competitors in training. Which was, for Westerville, a whopping total of 3 skaters. Kurt, Jeff, and Luna.

He was thankful that the Westerville Skating Club was admittedly tiny, though. The barren rink was an indulgence. Given, he still had to pay monthly fees for time on ice- but skating season was a great opportunity for new sponsors.

A voice piped up from behind him,"Hey."

Placing his light jacket over the short, ice-encasing wall, he looked up into the familiar face of his coach.

Alice. She was a tall, thin woman in her early thirties. A World Championships silver medalist.

The idea still shocked him sometimes. Even years later, he was still in that she was his coach. There was a fanboy aspect of him that he was never really able to shake off entirely. She was an incredible skater.

Kurt smiled and followed her to the center of the ice. "Good morning," he said with a yawn.

"Kurt, even though I'm aware that you would take me seriously anyway, I'm now going to go into serious-coach mode," she paused. "We can't afford to be tired today. Sectionals is coming up."

"I'm worried," he blurted out.

Alice frowned "There's always room for improvement, Kurt. Just remember that you're at your best right now. Yes, this is your first year competing a senior-level. You've already memorized the choreography. I know you'll be fine," she paused whilst adjusting her hat over her long blonde hair. "Stress isn't healthy, okay?"

Kurt sighed. "Firstly, you and Jeff are both far too concerned about my mental health. Secondly, you and I both know that they're expecting me to shine this year."

"Course they are. Expectations and titles go hand in hand," she said, grinning proudly.

He glared for a moment. His little "title" was proving to be source of pressure that he wasn't quite willing to harbor. "Gee. That actually doesn't make me feel better," he replied.

"Its my job. Enough talking. Triple salchows. Go." His coach flicked her wrist as a gesture of nonchalance.

Pulling away from his thoughts, Kurt launched his attention towards the practice session. He began to strengthen his focus as his blades swept across the ice. That particular sheet of ice felt like a second home. It was familiar and comfortable. It was safe. Safe enough to take risks.

He was in control.

* * *

_Click._

Kurt's back stung in protest from the impact of being shoved against the locker. Closing his eyes, he sank to the floor and tried to relax his muscles. He considered himself to be a tolerant person. Admittedly, he could be bitchy when provoked- but for the most part, he tried to be open-minded.

His attempts at indifference were fading quickly and his emotions were on the verge of toppling over. Despite being an educational institution, McKinley proved to be a place filled with ignorance.

As appealing as the idea of engaging in a few biting, Karofsky-directed comments sounded, he knew it wouldn't help. Kurt wanted to stand up to him, but he wanted to do so in a way that actually made a difference. Karofsky needed to be educated, not degraded.

_Chin up, Kurt. _He brushed the nonexistent dust off of his deep blue Marc Jacobs jacket and walked into glee practice.

A few members of the New Directions had already shown up. Mike and Tina were making out in the corner. Brittany was sprawled out on the bleachers, doodling in a glitter-clad notebook. Quinn sat next to Sam, looking bored as she ran her fingers through her short, newly candy-pink hair. Santana and Rachel were already arguing over solos. Heaven forbid that Kurt should ever hope for one.

He ended up sitting in the second row, next to Mercedes.

"Hey, Boo," she said, giving him a small smile.

"Hey, Cedes." Kurt watched as the rest of the glee members filed through the door. Each seemed to be a bit irritated. He couldn't blame them, really. The bullying was slowly wearing them out.

"Okay, guys. We've got a lot of work ahead of us if we want to make it to nationals this year," Mr. Shue said. He grabbed a blue dry erase marker and wrote "_sectionals"_ on the board. The word didn't make Kurt think of show choir. At that moment, he had a different type of sectionals on his mind.

_Focus, Kurt._

"Mr. Shue, what about solos?" Rachel piped. Santana scowled at her and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"We'll discuss that later, Rachel," Mr. Shue said.

"Fine."

Kurt's phone buzzed with an incoming text.

_Kurt. Kurtie-kins. An epic problem is brewing! You need to be here. Where are you? – Jeff_

He frowned. He wasn't supposed to be at the afternoon practice session for another two hours.

_Glee. Can it wait? – Kurt_

_Ummmmmm. It involves you. Alice said not to freak you out and well, she's obviously not my coach but I still kind of feel guilty about defying her - but I'm going to tell you anyway. Also, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. I was in the middle of super sexy movie date with Nick until I received some bewildering news. Like, you're going to be all angry when you hear the news of which I'm speaking of. – Jeff_

_Fantastic. – Kurt_

_I sense sarcasm. – Jeff_

Before he got the chance to reply again, his phone started ringing with the tune of Dr. Horrible's _Brand New Day_. Heads turned towards him, each looking particularly annoyed.

"Just don't ask." Jeff insisted on being designated with that particular ring tone, despite Kurt's disapproval on the matter.

"Is that Jeff?" Mercedes asked, peeking over his shoulder.

"The devil himself." He was going to have to pick up, or his inbox would be bombarded with texts.

"Who's Jeff?" Rachel furrowed her brow. Her face scrunched up in confusion.

"That would be none of your business," Mercedes said. Kurt sent her a grateful smile. She and Finn were technically the only ones who knew.

Kurt was living a bit of a double life. He wasn't ashamed of skating- not in the least. Skating was a beautiful sport. And he wasn't afraid of them seeing it as a girly. On those aspects of it, he couldn't care less. He just had these walls. Walls surrounding his personal life. Walls surrounding his self-esteem. Letting them know about skating would be inadvertently letting them infiltrate an important part _him. _His skating life was secure. It was his personal bubble.

School was tedious.

In recent months, The New Directions weren't exactly the epitome of encouraging. They looked the other way when Karofsky harassed him. They had begun to pretend that he didn't exist, because they were afraid of being dragged downwards on the social ladder. Glee club was usually spent complaining about solos, of which he was never a candidate. It pained him. He'd lost his faith in most of them.

Thankfully, Mercedes made an effort as a friend. He eventually broke down and told her. She'd earned her own little place in his bubble.

"_It's a brand new day_

_And the sun is high_

_All the birds are singing-"_

"Ugh. I really have to take this, guys, I'll be right back," he said, walking just outside of the choir room. He answered the call.

Jeff's voice rang out in his ear, "_Hiya. I'm going to get straight to the point, because I know that you hate sugarcoating."_

_"_And that point would be?"

_" They moved up the date to Sectionals. It's about two weeks earlier now. Something about building damage at the rink they were planning for. They weren't able to get another location on short notice. Oh, sweet Ohio. _"

Kurt stared blankly ahead.

"_Kurt? Are you still there? Are you hyperventilating?_"

"Y-yeah. I'm here. I didn't even realize that they could do that," he croaked.

"_Well, its just sectionals. But yeah, I also feel slightly cheated. You need to come practice. Seniors is going to be tough for both of us this year. Every minute of possible practice time is crucial if you want to win, Kurt. "_

Time. There wasn't enough time. He had to be the best this season. Needed to be the best_. This was supposed to be my year to shine,_ he thought. Two weeks was too much time lost. Even for sectionals.

"On my way." He hung up on Jeff and walked back into the choir room to grab his messenger bag.

"Kurt?" Mr. Shue looked at him curiously.

He paused and turned to address the room, "I have to go. Like, now. Please don't make a big deal out of this."

"It is a big deal, Kurt. You can't just miss glee," Rachel said.

"I've never missed a single day of glee in the time I've been a part of this club. Never. Half of you have missed it multiple times. Heck, Noah doesn't even show up every other day." He stood his ground.

"That doesn't give you an excuse to do it too. You're supposed to be committed to this team. What is so important that you'd just walk out on a commitment?" She glowered.

He narrowed his eyes. Show choir was incredibly important to him. He loved performing and skating equally. They were his two passions. It wasn't a contest at the moment, though. There were sponsors and judges to impress by November.

"I need to go," he said. And with that, he left his stunned peers to gossip among themselves.

As he walked towards the parking lot, he didn't even notice the distant, looming figures of the football team.

* * *

_"Hey, homo."_

_They ganged up on him from behind._

_Karofsky threw the first punch to Kurt's smooth, alabaster face._

_The second struck him on the shoulder._

_Shit._

_Any further injury would cost him his skating career._

_He ran._

_"He's getting away!"_

_His legs nearly gave out as he fumbled for his keys. He launched himself into the drivers seat and locked the car. Knuckles turned white from his tight grip on the steering wheel._

_What brought this on?_

_Had it really come to this?_

_Violence._

_It was their horrible way of making a statement. They were trying to prove themselves with their sick, twisted perception of masculinity. They wanted a victim to make themselves seem powerful._

_He desperately reached for his phone, pressing 9-1-1 with trembling fingers._

* * *

Burt was angry. Well, he was actually infuriated. Someone harmed his son.

Who the hell did those kids think they were?

Half of the McKinley football team was brought into the police department for questioning. Karofsky was on juvenile simple assault charges. The only people on the team who were absent from the attack were the players who also happened to be in glee, and they apparently had no knowledge of the entire ordeal.

Finn spent the rest of the day apologizing for not doing something about the harassment sooner, for not defending his stepbrother beforehand. Kurt insisted that nothing would've made a difference.

Everything had gotten out of hand. There sat his son, bruised and silent.

Burt was proud of Kurt for calling the police, but he wished that he'd known about the extent of the bullying sooner. He wished he could've done something more. By the looks of it, that Karofsky kid was probably going to get off with just a fine or probation.

He dialed Alice's number, knowing that they could trust her. While also being Kurt's coach, Alice was a family friend. Specifically, she had been his late wife's best friend. Alice knew Kurt. She'd known him since he was little.

And she told Burt exactly what she thought he should do.

_"Send him to Dalton."_

* * *

"You _what?"_

"I got you a scholarship to Dalton," Jeff repeated. He was sitting on a plush chair in the Hudmel's living room, his socked feet folded underneath his legs.

"Um, how exactly?" Kurt was a bit confused.

"Well, it was a joint effort between myself and a few who shall not be named. It was ever-so-slightly illegal. I hired a tech genius to infiltrate McKinley's computerized files and get your GPA and other details so that forms could be filled out and sent to Dalton and whatnot. By the way, oh my god. How the hell are you maintaining a 4.0?"

"So basically, Luna hacked into the school system?" Kurt said.

"Pretty much. She says hi, by the way. Alice also pitched in."

Kurt started at his hands, trying to mentally weigh the pros and cons. "When did all of this happen?"

"We sent in the scholarship application two weeks ago. Acceptance came back yesterday. I was actually hinting at it this morning, remember?" Jeff rubbed the back of his neck. "You looked really worn out, Kurt. I know you don't really talk about the bullying, but we all knew it was happening. We were waiting for the right time to tell you about the scholarship. I got the call earlier from Alice and thought it would be best to tell you now, although I apologize for not letting you know about the acceptance before something like this happened."

Kurt looked up at his friend. "You went behind my back. Invaded my privacy." He smiled softly. "But you did it because you care, and that's worth something. I appreciate it, Jeff. I really do."

"You're basically family. Caring is obligatory. And does that mean you're coming to Dalton?" Jeff asked, excitedly.

"I don't know. I would have to board, right?"

"Yup,"

"I'll talk to my dad about it," Kurt said.

As if by a strange spur of fate, Burt walked into the living room. "Talk to me about what?"

"Hiya, Mr. Hummel," Jeff spoke up before Kurt got the chance. "Soooo. Super news has arrived in the midst of bad things today. Although, I guess that depends on how you see it," he rambled and then just decided to hand him the scholarship acceptance letter.

Kurt pointedly avoided eye contact with both of them.

"Okay," Burt said.

Okay? _Okay?_

"Huh?" Kurt turned towards his dad.

"Alice mentioned Dalton. McKinley isn't safe, and the administration hasn't put in any effort. This sounds like a better option, Kid," Burt said as his eyes scanned the rest of the letter.

Jeff's grin reached his ears. "Oh my god. You're sooo going to Dalton. I'm calling Nicky. We'll both act as overbearing fathers on your first day. It'll be great. See you at the rink tomorrow! Oh, and keep icing that ghastly bruise." He was already reaching for his phone and sprinting out the door, leaving an amused Burt and a rather frazzled Kurt behind.

Maybe Dalton wouldn't be so bad.

Maybe he was ready for a fresh start.

* * *

**Little reference note for future chapters:**

**Figure skating levels from highest to lowest:**

**Senior**

**Junior**

**Novice**

**Intermediate**

**Juvenile**

**I know that skating regionals comes before sectionals, but I'm switching them in this fic to avoid confusion- because of the competition terms that Glee already has going. I'm also excluding age-centered competitions, the prix's, and invitational ones. Set between Olympics.**

**The competition season, in this AU, works like this:**

**Sectionals**

**Regionals**

**Nationals**

**Worlds**

**:) xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the follows and reviews, guys! :)**

**I don't own Glee or any of the characters.**

* * *

Kurt's first day at Dalton was set for Monday. Burt refused to let him go back to McKinley until then, despite the fact that most of the football team was on temporary suspension and Karofsky was dealing with probation.

Mercedes came over to his house, fussing over him while Finn acted suspiciously brotherly. It was disconcerting. Like they were trying to make up for something that they weren't at fault for. Kurt hated it. He hated the concerned looks and the guilty expressions. He resolved to move forward and not let his past affect his future.

There was one last thing at McKinley to take care of.

He wasn't exactly sure about how to tell The New Directions about his upcoming transfer. Actually, he just didn't want the awkward confrontation. He was at a mental loss for what to do and he couldn't just leave McKinley without saying anything. Even though some of his peers seemed to have lost interest in his friendship, they once acted like a family. Wasn't that worth something?

Kurt decided that it was necessary to drop by the school one last time, unbeknownst to his father.

"Hey, Dad?" he asked, looking over to where Burt was sitting on the sofa watching a football game. "I'm going to go to the rink. I'll be back in a few hours." It was half true. He did intend to go to there eventually.

"Okay." Burt waved, turning his attention away from the screen for a moment. Kurt instantly felt guilty. He didn't like lying to his dad and usually didn't make a habit out doing so.

He grabbed his skating bag and his car keys on his way to the door, shooting a quick text to Mercedes to let her know that he way on his way. He tried to calm himself down as he drove to McKinley. After about ten minutes of driving, he parked near the front of the school building and nervously fiddled with the edges of his Zara coat-sleeves. The car mirror revealed that his bruised cheek was darker than before. Thankfully, the swelling had gone down a bit.

"Now or never," he muttered to himself as he stepped outside his car and entered the building. People began to stare as he walked past, students and teachers alike. The gossip mill was running again. Everybody knew about the incident in the parking lot. He ignored the unwelcome eyes as he hurried towards his destination.

When he stepped into the choir room, complete silence ensued. They were assessing him.

"Oh. You poor thing," Quinn spoke up first. The tone was forced. Unauthentic.

"Wrong thing to say," he said as calmly as possible. "Just let me speak for a moment."

They waited, staring at him.

"I'm transferring to Dalton Academy."

Rachel was practically sputtering. "You're what?"

"Transferring."

"You can't do that. We need you for Sectionals," she said, frowning at him.

"Is that really your first thought?" Finn said, looking abashed at his girlfriend's insensitivity. She crossed her arms, haughtily.

"We barely have time to find a replacement member, Finn," she said.

Puck said, "What's the big deal? I've been punched before."

_"Puck_," Mr. Shue scolded in disbelief.

Kurt glared daggers at the teen. He was becoming seriously irritated. "I shouldn't have to explain this to you. The problem has nothing to do with me being injured, or the extent of that injury. The problem is in the principal of the thing. You've been punched because you've engaged in fights. What happened to me was discriminatory, making it a hate crime."

"Porcelain's grown a nice backbone," Santana said, smirking.

"Flattered," Kurt replied. He knew that was a complement, in her own little language of insults.

"Is that really the reason you're leaving? We can like, form a protective barrier around you."

Kurt knew that it wasn't the only reason.

_Just tell them_, Mercedes mouthed. She expected him to clear the slate, for his own benefit. So they couldn't hold anything against him.

Maybe there would never really be a right time. At that point, he didn't care if any of them found out. His name had been out in the public for years. One Google search would've revealed everything. He didn't think of it as a secret, necessarily. He just wasn't sharing or sending them any invitations when they barely tried to respect him in the first place.

"Yes. I guess this is goodbye,"

Mercedes and Brittany each pulled him into hugs. The rest of the room was unresponsive.

He hadn't been expecting much.

* * *

"_Blaine_?" Nick's voice hummed from the speaker of his phone.

"Yes?" Blaine distractedly responded to his friend. He was browsing through a music store by the name of "Between the Sheets", trying to find the right sheet music for Sectionals. The council had dubbed him as the official "Warbler errand boy."

"_I need a favor."_

"Okay. Shoot."

"_I kinda drove Jeff to his skating practice earlier because he's a terrible driver and it freaks the hell out of me. Now he doesn't have a way of getting back to Dalton before curfew. I'm stuck in my parents' house because my grandmother is literally taking every possible opportunity to interrogate me."_

"So you want me to give him a ride back to Dalton?

_"His skating partner goes to Crawford Country Day, so she can't give him a ride without missing her own curfew. And she also really scares me sometimes. If you drive him back for me, I will be forever in your debt, Will you, please? As the greatest friend a guy could ever hope for?"_ Nick pleaded.

"Jeff's still going to be annoyed, but text me the address," Blaine said, smiling amusedly.

_ "You're the best. I'll text him and let him know that you're coming by." _

Fifteen minutes later, he found himself parking his car at the skating rink. The building was average-sized and it looked exactly as one would expect a skating rink in Ohio to look like. It was uniform. Straight-to-the-point. To Blaine, it just seemed…Unmemorable. Uneventful.

He wasn't yet aware of just how wrong he was.

Jeff wasn't answering his phone or texts. Blaine figure that he probably let his phone run out of battery for the 4th time that week, so he decided to wander up to the building's door. A sign on the glass clearly said, "closed" and all of the lights were turned on. Getting arrested for trespassing wasn't really on his agenda.

A petite, green-eyed girl with a dark brunette pixie cut eventually appeared behind the glass and unlocked the door. She was wearing a deep blue skating dress over opaque tights and a black jacket with the words "Westerville Skating" on the crest. Looking at him with an expression of curiosity, she asked, "Can I help you?"

"Do you know Jeff, by chance? He's about to miss Dalton curfew," Blaine explained.

She grinned. "I'm Luna. Jeff's ice dancing partner." Luna held out her hand to shake his. "I take it that Nick sent you?"

"Nice to meet you. And yes."

"You can go inside. Jeff's in the locker room. Third door to the right, on the far end of the ice," she said.

"Thanks," He stepped into the lobby. An onslaught of cold air sent shivers down his spine.

"You're welcome. Oh, and if you see a depressed guy in there with really nice hair, try to avoid his wrath. He's having a serious off-day." She waved, walking towards her car. She stopped mid-stride for a moment, turned, and studied him. "See ya, bowtie boy."

Blaine returned the wave and walked across the lobby to enter the actual rink-portion of the building. Music was playing over some sort of speaker and he recognized it as an instrumental version of "One Day More", from _Les Miserables_.

Blaine stopped in his tracks.

There was a boy. He couldn't have been any older than Blaine. A skater. Blaine suddenly realized that he was skating to the music. Even from a distance, Blaine could see that he was gorgeous. He had pale, porcelain skin and immaculately coiffed hair. His face was flushed, either from the exercise or the cold, and only enhanced his beauty.

And there was just something about the way the he _moved._

His slender legs swept across the ice time to the melody at a swift pace, the tracing of his blades making an almost-silent scratching sound. He was his own force. He wasn't relying on the music. The music was his balance. It was as if every movement stood as a singular purpose for each feeling he was trying to convey.

He was breathtaking.

"Blainers! I see you creeping." Jeff's voice interrupted his trance. His friend was now standing next to him with a bulky sports bag thrown over his shoulder.

"Shhh." Blaine kept his eyes fixated on the skater.

Jeff complied and kept his mouth shut as the music finished and the skater struck his final pose. "You're completely infatuated with him," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Blaine was tongue-tied. The beautiful skater was now skating towards the nearest sidewall of the ice, the one that was merely a few feet from Blaine, looking directly at him. His eyes were lovely. He couldn't quite pinpoint the color. Crystalline blue with traces of green and grey. From up close, he could see a dark purple bruise marring side of the boy's face, covering his jaw and sculpted cheekbone. The sight pained Blaine. The sharp, darker outline of knuckles reminded him of the incident at his 8th grade Sadie Hawkins dance.

"A friend of yours?" the skater asked, turning his attention to the blonde and absentmindedly twitching his fingers against the wall. The voice was soft and high-pitched, but not girlish.

Blaine swallowed nervously.

Jeff spoke up, "Yup. He's also my ride today, courtesy of my soon-to-be-guilty boyfriend." He gestured towards Blaine. "Blaine, meet Kurt. Kurt, meet Blaine."

"Hi," Kurt said simply.

_Get it together, Blaine, _he thought to himself.

"Hello," he said, smiling charmingly.

"I-I should get going. It's getting late," Kurt said. A faintly red blush appeared to creep up to the length of his neck and ears. He gingerly stepped onto the stiffly padded floor and hurried towards what Blaine presumed to be the locker room.

_No, please don't leave,_ Blaine wanted to say.

"I've never really seen him get flustered like that, but it wasn't really his fault. On another note, thanks for driving here," Jeff said.

"I only said hello."

"Your dapper side was showing," Jeff said, amused.

"He's perfect." Blaine sighed.

"Duh. He's the Junior National Champion."

* * *

**I really like the idea of adding some more of Blaine's POV soon (yay or nay for that?) And maybe some Jeff or Nick.**

**Quick note: I just realized that I probably made the whole junior senior thing confusing in the first chapter because he was also referred to as a junior. In school, Kurt is a junior. He skates at the unrelated "senior" level. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter warning: Cursing**

**I don't own Glee or any of the characters. **

* * *

Kurt found himself thinking about the hazel-eyed boy.

_Nobody has ever looked at me like that_, he thought while he finished packing his things for his upcoming transfer to Dalton.

Blaine saw him skate through his entire short program. That kind of thing didn't usually happen. Only Jeff and Luna were supposed to be there that night. Historically, he wasn't comfortable with most people watching his programs. Finn and Mercedes once tried to sneak into the rink during practice hours out of curiosity and Kurt just _lost_ it, giving them both a thirty-minute lecture about why his programs couldn't be seen before competition because it was a privacy thing and they couldn't risk it being taped and posted online.

Neither Finn nor Mercedes would ever tape anything. It was an excuse. In truth, Kurt was self-conscious. Practice was a time when he was vulnerable and unpolished. Imperfect.

But Blaine gave Kurt a look that sent shivers down his spine, instantly boosting his confidence. Some people, aside from skaters, coaches, and people with a general sense of respect for the sport, glared at him as though he was the most awkward thing in existence. Blaine hadn't appeared to be uncomfortable, though. He'd simply stood there with that ridiculously charming, awe-filled smile until Kurt became too anxious to function.

Was Blaine even gay, or maybe he just really liked his program? Kurt assumed the former, as Jeff spent the following morning making distinctly unsubtle innuendos about Kurt and Blaine's supposed "eye contact chemistry". Kurt knew that Jeff was up to something but decided to ask no further questions on the matter.

Kurt was distracted. Not unfocussed. No, he was still on the top of his game. It was all very confusing, as if something had shifted. For the first time in years, he found himself wanting something other than the climb of his athletic career.

He'd experienced crushes before, judging by the crumpled up Taylor Lautner poster in the back of his closet. He acknowledged his sexuality, but the possibility of having an actual boyfriend wasn't something he'd considered much in the past. Living under the assumption that homophobes were going to dictate his social life until college had taken a toll on him.

He knew other gay guys and a few of them from different skating clubs tried to flirt with him at competitions. But he always ended up brushing them off as being insincere because there was still a nagging feeling in his chest that they were just doing flirting with him because they were attracted to the _idea_ of him. It made him feel like an accessory. The students at McKinley who treated him as though he was inferior knew nothing about skating, whilst skaters placed him on this annoying pedestal of their affections, showering him with praise.

He didn't want to be defined by one aspect of his life.

Skating was a part of him, a part of who he was. That didn't mean the rest of him paled in comparison. What about his singing voice? His fashion sense? His ability to make an incredible soufflé?

His flaws?

His thoughts were interrupted when Finn's deep voice echoed from behind the closed door. "Kurt, you might want to see this."

Kurt quickly opened the door, recognizing the panicked tone. "Yes? See what?"

Finn was holding an open laptop. He walked into Kurt's room and set it down on the foot of the bed.

"Is it good news or bad news?" Kurt didn't dare look at the screen. Anxiety flooded his senses.

"I have a feeling that you won't take it well," Finn said, cocking his head towards the screen and hastily stepping back to give him some space.

Kurt finally looked at the screen.

_Beginning of the skating season: National skater, Kurt Hummel, seen with an obvious bruise. _

_Seventeen-year-old Kurt Hummel earned the well-deserved title of "Junior National Champion" last year. Thanks to his beautifully choreographed programs and his graceful technique, he's a fan-favorite._

_ Kurt Hummel has been active in the skating community since the age of six. It is reported that he aims to qualify for Worlds this season. We have no doubt that he will, as his "Defying Gravity" performance from last year's National Showcase went viral when he surpassed the judges expectations and successfully landed a quad. _

_ His late mother, Elizabeth Hummel, was a world-renowned skating choreographer. Before her death, she worked with Kurt's coach, Alice Jones. Jones still manages being both a choreographer and a coach quite successfully and obviously intends to help her star skater achieve success. _

_On Wednesday evening, Hummel was spotted in his hometown of Lima, Ohio, with a large bruise on the side of his face. A blogger, not recognizing him, snapped a picture and posted it to tumblr with the caption "LOL. If he walks around like a fairy, of course he's going to get punched."_

_Many avid skating fans are outraged at the homophobic comment directed towards the openly gay skater._

_ We are curious about the bruised face, though. It seems too coincidental. _

_ - Madge Skeeter of the Skaters Gossip Column _

"Fuck," Kurt said, burying his face in his hands. He sat on the rug and brought his knees up to his chest. This hardly ever happened- it was a rarity.

"For the record, the bruise doesn't look too bad anymore. The article could've been a lot worse," Finn chimed.

"It could've been worse, but that's not the point, Finn," Kurt said.

The skating community was very close-knit. If he made it to nationals again, this would paint targets on others. Questions would be raised; questions that Kurt didn't want to have to answer. Lying wasn't his forte.

Finn frowned and sat down across from him on the rug. He poked his shoulder lightly. "Hey. I know I'm not always the best brother, but you know that you can still talk to me, right?"

It was nice to see that Finn was making an effort.

"This just isn't pleasant, y'know?" Kurt stated.

"Jeff called and told me about the article. Something about avoiding your reaction…" Finn said.

Kurt wasn't annoyed. Jeff got him a scholarship, after all, one he had thanked him for multiple times that week. Jeff was a good friend and Kurt was feeling grateful.

Kurt sighed. "I should've been paying closer attention. I'm glad that someone told me."

"Okay. Have you got everything packed? Burt said that we should head to Dalton before traffic hits."

"Yeah… I just need five minutes," Kurt said. Hopping up from his spot on the floor, Finn gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and left the room.

Kurt wouldn't cry. He wasn't sad, just irritated.

The article was relatively respectful, but it was still an invasion of privacy. He would just have to start getting used to it. When article mentioned his mom, fresh wounds were brought up. They knew her as Elizabeth Hummel, the choreographer of Olympians. She was seen as another title, another accomplishment.

They didn't know her. They knew her legacy. A legacy that Kurt was expected to uphold.

He didn't care.

Didn't they know that he wasn't doing it for them? That they had no reason to be proud?

* * *

"Blaine."

Blaine snapped his head towards his roommate. Nick was on the other side of the room, sitting cross-legged on his bed, looking directly at him.

"You were staring at the ceiling rather intently. Whatcha thinking about?"

Blaine sighed. "A boy."

"A boy?" Nick grinned slightly.

"A boy," Blaine reaffirmed. He shuffled a bit until he was sitting up on the edge of his own bed and facing his friend.

"Who? I want details. You haven't had a crush in forever." Nick said.

"I don't actually know him, to be honest." Blaine inwardly sighed.

"Hmm. Then it isn't a Warbler. Where did you meet him?"

"Skating rink. I wouldn't classify it as meeting."

Nick's eyes widened. His grin grew wider. "You just gave yourself away. There are only two guys our age that you would've met there, and you already know Jeff. By process of elimination, you have a crush on the one and only Kurt Hummel."

Blaine frowned. "Unfair. I don't have a full-fledged crush. I'm just intrigued, okay?"

"I can read you like an open book," Nick said. "As for Kurt, I've known him since I started dating Jeff… so three years. He and Jeff are childhood friends. He's a really nice guy, although he's pretty guarded- which is understandable in his case. Also, he's gay. And single. "

"He's out of my league."

"What a chipper way to think. No, he's not out of your league," Nick said, rolling his eyes. "Ah, how do I say this? Kurt's been through a lot, like you. He's a human being with supernaturally perfect hair and several inner imperfections." He paused. "Don't underestimate yourself. You are, and I mean this platonically of course, a pretty charming guy. Jeff says you're an alpha gay."

"Alpha gay?" Blaine raised an eyebrow in question. What was that supposed to mean?

"Don't ask. Well, do ask. Not about the alpha gay thing. Ask Kurt out for coffee or something."

Blaine pondered this. "What school does he go to?"

"Formerly McKinley High in Lima. There was an incident… a bullying incident. You saw the bruise, right? He's transferring to Dalton."

Dalton? Kurt was transferring to Dalton? "What? When?"

* * *

Kurt watched as Burt, Carole, and Finn waved goodbye from the car. He lifted a hand to wave back. The gesture felt unfamiliar to him, but oddly fitting. The distance had been there for a long time. Being at Dalton would only make it a reality.

There wouldn't be many chances to spend time with them for a few months. Sure, he would stay at home for most weekends- but he spent most of his extra hours at the rink. Training barely left any remaining time for school or family. Kurt was grateful for his dad, though. While Burt chastised him when he missed Friday night dinners, he definitely was a supportive father. He trusted Kurt's judgment and didn't question it when his son's other priorities were overlooked during the skating season.

Kurt was inadvertently isolating himself from his own family. He couldn't help but wonder if he was being selfish.

"Are you okay?" Nick asked from where he was standing beside him.

"Yeah. I'll be fine," Kurt said, giving him a fake smile.

"Hmm. I'm sure you'll get used to it soon enough." Nick wasn't buying it. Sometimes he had an alarmingly accurate sense of empathy.

"Kurt, you're officially a Dalton student. This is going to be loads of fun." Jeff said, helping them haul a few boxes of Kurt's things up to the dorms. It was a Sunday afternoon and they both happily greeted Kurt when he arrived. "_We'll be your personal welcome committee,"_ Jeff had said a few days prior.

"Baby, let him breathe," Nick said.

Kurt was feeling slightly overwhelmed with the new environment. The building had a certain sense of grandeur. Everything looked so . . . put together. It was different. Not better or worse, just different.

They walked past a few teenage boys on the staircase. Some of them raised their heads, peeking at the new kid with curious expressions. A few began to stare. Feeling self-conscious, Kurt unconsciously raised a hand to his face. Nick gave him a sympathetic look, tugging him further along the corridor.

"We're here!"

Kurt was pulled into a room at the end of the corridor of dorms. There was a twin bed in the center and a desk and a dresser were lined up against a wall. The room had two extra doors. One revealed an average-sized closet and the other a small bathroom. It was clearly uninhabited, but the room was nice. He'd just have to add some décor of his own.

"They save a few dorms in case of emergency transfers. Be thankful you got a single and you don't have a roommate. I'm jealous," Jeff said.

"Hmm. I'm glad I don't have to share a closet."

Jeff audibly stifled a giggle. "I can just imagine that now. Someone finding a secret stash of rhinestones and bedazzled skating boot covers in every color of the rainbow."

"Not true. The rainbow is currently incomplete. I'm missing my blue ones, due to your recent attempts at thievery," Kurt said, arching a brow. He walked around a bit, beginning to inspect the room further.

"Oh, I did borrow those," Jeff paused. "They were beautiful."

"_Were_ beautiful? Did you just use the past tense?"

"Did I?"

Kurt glared daggers at his friend. "Those were handmade."

"Ahem! You're just being hostile. Nicky, he's being hostile," Jeff said, burying his face in the crook of his boyfriend's neck.

Nick rolled his eyes fondly at the exchange as he placed the last box on the carpeted floor. "What do you think of Dalton?" he asked.

The couple sat cross-legged on the bed and stared at Kurt expectantly.

"It seems nice. I've been here for a total of five minutes, guys," he said.

"First impressions are important," Jeff pointed out. "Oooh I'm changing the subject. Are you going to join the Warblers?"

"Maybe. I'm just not sure I want to balance two different Sectionals again," Kurt said.

"Backing down from a challenge, Hummel?" Jeff had a twinkle in his eye. Kurt suppressed a small laugh. Jeff always called him Hummel when he wanted to seem serious.

Kurt could predict how things were going to turn out. The New Directions would feel betrayed. Did he care? No. He cared about the tantrums that they were going to throw, which would only create more anxiety for him at a time when he needed it the least. He was going to take every possible opportunity to repress his experiences at McKinley, and if that meant he had to avoid them, then so be it.

"I'm not sure that it would be the best idea, Jeff," he said.

"Madness. It's a great idea. The Warblers need you." Jeff insisted. "We also need to defeat the Crawford Pipers. Luna's ego must be shrunken to its original size, thank you very much."

"Pipers? Where do they come up with these strange show choir names?" Kurt asked.

Jeff rolled his eyes. "You're avoiding the topic. Is that your way of saying yes?"

"Maybe. I'll think about it," Kurt said.

"You should join." Nick said absentmindedly. Kurt was slightly confused. Nick was never as pushy as Jeff. Any sort of prodding was out-of-character for him.

"I know that face. You're hiding something." Jeff called him out on it before Kurt had the chance.

Nick smiled, whispering something into Jeff's ear. His boyfriend's eyes widened. "He said that? I knew it. Didn't I? I told you. I saw hearts in his eyes. They're going to be the perfect couple."

Kurt hated feeling out-of-the-loop.

Jeff shook Nick's shoulder in excitement and jumped down from the bed. He looped his arm with Nick's as he skipped towards the door, waving at Kurt. "We're leaving before you turn that 'I'll think about it.' into a no. I'll text you possible audition times after we talk to Wes and David about it!"

* * *

_1 day later_.

Blaine was going to be late to physics. The hallways were packed with students bustling past one another, creating awkward traffic. He was hurrying down the main hall when someone accidentally bumped shoulders with him and a beautiful voice caught his attention.

"Oh, excuse me. Sorry."

Kurt.

Blaine quickly turned around, meeting the taller boy's eyes. "Hi. No worries," he managed to say in a strangled voice.

Kurt lowered his gaze to the floor. "Blaine. Hi, Blaine. I'm a new transfer. And I mean, umm. I met you the other day." he said, fidgeting nervously.

Blaine smiled warmly, glad that Kurt remembered his name. "You're Kurt. It's nice to see you again."

An adorable smile lit up Kurt's face and Blaine melted a bit. His heartbeat quickened. "You too." Kurt said. They both just stared at each other for a few moments. Suddenly, Blaine didn't care about being late to class. He was absolutely transfixed with the boy standing in front of him.

"I'm kinda lost. Could you point me in the direction of the physics room?" Kurt asked.

"I also have physics next. Walk with me?" Blaine offered. He wanted to keep talking to him.

Kurt reddened. "Okay."

* * *

**Hiya. It has been a while since the last update (sorry about that). I'll try to update more regularly. **

**Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate them. **

**Since one of the reviews asked if Sebastian will appear: he will eventually appear. I can assure you that ****_(_****Spoiler)**There will not be any Klaine or Niff cheating.

**Also, Kurt isn't super famous in the skating community of this AU. He is definitely popular within certain circles and well-recognized, though. If there was a B-list for US skaters, he would be on it at this point in the fic.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi, guys. Thank you so much for all of the positive reviews! You're all amazing. **

**And a big thank you to _j__obelle516_ for beta-ing this! :] **

**Chapter warning: cursing**

**I do not own Glee or any of the characters involved with Glee.**

* * *

Dalton was interesting, to say the least. The classes were difficult, but not unbearable. Kurt didn't get the chance to interact much with the students, or so he convinced himself.

Living in close proximity to the rink was something that he had every intention of taking advantage of. His average day began driving with Jeff to morning practice, going back to school, attending classes and then driving back to the rink for evening practice. It all began to blur together.

There was no particular lunch policy, so Kurt withdrew himself off into secluded areas during that time. An off-campus lunch option was offered to honor students, of which he was thankful for. He wasn't avoiding people. Jeff introduced him to several people on his first day and others had approached him in the times when he wasn't in a hurry. The prospect of making more friends when he may never be able to commit a substantial amount of time to a friendship just seemed eerie and he didn't want Dalton to become his new McKinley. Nevertheless, he was apparently gaining a status as the 'mysterious new kid'. He knew that if and when he eventually decided to join the Warblers, that would have to change.

And then there was Blaine.

Kurt had a track. His life was all set; everything planned to the last detail. Train. Study. Train. Study. Win. Repeat until satisfied.

So how was it that meeting one nice guy had now rendered him nearly speechless on more than one occasion?

His first week at Dalton passed in the blink of an eye. He found out that Blaine was also a junior, so they had several classes together. He learned that Blaine enjoyed music, had a cute sense of fashion and a nice presence. They just clicked.

There was just one problem. Though he still had his suspicions, Kurt still wasn't certain if Blaine was gay. His 'gaydar' had never once proved to be accurate. What if Blaine was straight? Or maybe he was just friendly?

Kurt woke up one morning at precisely five-thirty a.m. After mentally cursing whoever thought to invent alarm clocks, he did his morning routine, got dressed and then resentfully left his dorm, making his way down the corridor. Caffeine! He required caffeine.

He retrieved some coffee from the ridiculously expensive-looking coffee maker in the common room and sat down at the nearest table, waiting for Jeff to wake up. Considering the Lima Bean was over an hour away from Dalton, it would have to do until he found a decent coffee shop in Westerville. He noticed that the room was empty, but a passerby teacher tossed a confused look at his early presence. The middle-aged teacher stopped in her tracks to brusquely poke her head through the entrance.

"You are not affiliated with Jeffrey Sterling, are you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at the bulky skating bag at his feet. Her voice was shrill.

Kurt raised his coffee to his lips, trying to hide his growing amusement. "Guilty as charged," he said.

She huffed. "I hope you don't think you're entitled to get up to any shenanigans here." With one more suspicious glance, she sauntered away.

_That was strange_, Kurt thought. Yet, her tone could be compared to how Alice spoke of Jeff, and Jeff didn't have a great track record with authority figures. The teacher had probably been victim to one of his many pranks.

Reminded of Jeff's absence, Kurt pulled out his phone to send his friend a brief text.

_Wake up. Practice at six today. – Kurt._

About five minutes went by without a reply. _Well, whatever_, Kurt thought. Jeff's coach, Gavin, was much stricter than Alice. That should've been enough incentive for him to wake up. Besides, there was plenty of time to kill. Kurt turned his attention elsewhere.

"Tired?"

Kurt turned sleepily and went to utter a single word before he realized who had spoken first. Without thinking, he said, "Unfortunately, yes."

Blaine stuck his lower lip out, looking as though he was deliberating something important. Kurt thought that he looked completely kissable with his expression and wasn't even surprised by the abrupt turn of his thoughts.

"Why on earth are you conscious at this hour?" Kurt said, narrowing his eyes and smiling slightly as Blaine finally took a seat across from the tired skater.

"I'm a morning person. It's a nice time of the day to get things done," Blaine said.

Kurt assumed that he was referring to the colossal amount of homework Dalton handed out.

"Agreed," Kurt said.

"You must be skating today?" Blaine guessed. Oh, right. Blaine hadn't really mentioned seeing him at skating in the past week and it felt weird that someone at school knew about it. _Stop worrying about every little thing_, Kurt thought, mentally kicking himself. Dalton wasn't McKinley. And he now went to the same school as Jeff, so the cat was definitely out of the bag. He knew that he couldn't get away with secrecy at Dalton if he was going to continue boarding there.

Did that bother him? Why _didn't_ it bother him? He'd only transferred a week ago and he was already, well, much happier. People didn't pry.

Kurt cleared his throat and said, "Yes."

His fashion-strict alter ego caused him to have a moment of panic when he realized that he was in his practice clothes. He was wearing black athletic pants and a red, form-fitting compression shirt in front of Blaine. Blaine, who he was completely convinced he had a crush on.

Kurt relaxed when he saw that Blaine wasn't exactly wearing his uniform, which wasn't abnormal - considering that it was too early in the morning to worry about getting ready for classes. The normally dapper student was clad in a navy hoodie with the words 'Dalton Academy Warblers' printed across the front and his normally gelled hair was a nest of dark, unruly curls. Kurt felt an urge to run his fingers through the curls to see if they were as soft as they looked.

"Cute."

Blaine made a small choking sound in the back of his throat when he took a sip of coffee. "W-what?"

Did he actually say that out loud? Kurt winced, mortified. He didn't have a brain-to-mouth filter in the morning. "Oh, nothing. Your hair. It's cute." Okay, he decided that didn't sound any better and clamped his mouth shut to keep from embarrassing himself further. He'd only known Blaine for a week and the other boy was bound to be scared off by the comment.

Blaine's hands flew to his head, as if trying to confirm something. His eyes widened in shock and then he let out a small chuckle. "Oh God. This has never happened before."

"Getting complimented on your hair?" Kurt asked.

"Forgetting gel."

Kurt couldn't help but giggle. "That's a crime, you know? The gel."

Wait, was he flirting? How did one even flirt properly? Kurt had a sudden rise in panic, dissipating as soon as Blaine opened his mouth again.

"You think so?" Blaine mock-rolled his eyes. "The curls aren't too Medusa-like?"

"Medusa could be lovely, for all you know," Kurt said.

Blaine leaned further across the table and gave him a wide smile. "I'm flattered."

_Definitely flirting_.

"So, you're in the Warblers? You're competing against my old glee club at Sectionals," Kurt said, peering over at the Warblers hoodie and trying to divert Blaine's attention.

Blaine's eyes lit up. "We could always use more members," he said, mischievously. Kurt wasn't prepared for what came next. Blaine's face twisted into an unmistakably familiar expression. Kurt's swell of panic returned. It was the one and only, Rachel Berry trademarked, You-Should-Join-My-Show-Choir face. Usually followed by stalking someone down hallways, excessive pleading, and on occasion, sending someone to an inactive crack house. Did he just compare Blaine to Rachel? Kurt rubbed his temples distractedly, attempting to rationalize with his own thoughts.

"What's your range?" Blaine prodded.

"I'm a countertenor," Kurt said.

Blaine choked on his coffee again. He muttered, "You're a countertenor. Sheesh, you're probably amazing. Audition?"

Kurt was tired of blushing in Blaine's presence. It was becoming a regular occurrence, to his dismay. He willed himself to keep a straight face. The words went straight to Kurt's self-esteem, which seemed to be growing steadily after each time he talked to Blaine. The concept was foreign - he was used to ignoring praise after having been fooled one too many times by façades of sincerity.

Kurt had trust issues.

So why did Blaine's words somehow make his chest feel all tingly? Why was Blaine becoming an exception?

"Sure." Kurt wasn't wholly okay with it and it didn't really seem to matter. He felt an overwhelming urge to make the other boy happy. Plus, giving into auditioning would get Jeff and Nick to stop pestering him about it.

"Yes! This is exciting," Blaine said, practically glowing.

"I'll keep you posted." Kurt racked his brain, trying to figure out when he would be able to audition. Outside of school hours, his schedule pretty tight. Every spare minute was spent at the rink.

Jeff's voice suddenly came from across the room, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. "Kurtsie!"

"That's my cue." Kurt rose from his seat, placing the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He put his empty paper coffee cup in the nearest trash bin and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair.

Blaine peered up at him through thick, dark lashes. "Kurtsie?"

"Shhh."

* * *

Jeff had a plan. Oh, yes he did.

He'd overheard Kurt and Blaine earlier. It was official, he decided. They were destined to be together.

Which was why he had called for an emergency afternoon "scheming" session with Nick. They were in an empty English classroom as Jeff stared intently at his boyfriend for a while and then grabbed a bright purple marker, proceeding to scribble words onto the whiteboard.

**_Operation KLAINE._**

"Klaine?" Nick sat on top of a desk with his legs hanging off one end, looking amused.

"Kurt and Blaine. Klaine. It's science, Baby! Everyone has a couple name." Jeff said.

"Wait, do we have a couple name?" Nick asked.

Jeff spun around quickly, giving him a stern glare. "We're Niff!"

"I knew that," Nick said.

"You didn't." Jeff sulked.

Nick blew Jeff a kiss and his face softened.

Jeff clucked his tongue, reaching out his hand to habitually catch the imaginary kiss. "You're not off the hook for not knowing our couple name."

"Love you," Nick said. That charming bastard.

Jeff sent him a toothy smile. "Now, for the plan." He pointed to the board with a yardstick ruler. A large question mark was drawn in the center. "I actually have no plan."

Nick doubled over with laughter.

"Hush, you." Jeff scolded. "This is why you're here. This is serious. Love is in the air."

His boyfriend jumped down from the desk, making his way over to the whiteboard. He wrapped his arms around Jeff's waist. "We shouldn't meddle, Sweetheart."

Jeff rested his head against Nick's shoulder. "Can't help it. I need to meddle. It's in my blood," he whined.

"Anything else?" Nick met Jeff's eyes.

"Kurt hasn't actually been happy in a really long time," Jeff paused, mumbling almost incoherently against Nick's neck. He pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone "I love them both. They deserve each other."

"If it's meant to happen, it'll happen," Nick said.

"Well, Kurt did agree to audition for the Warblers. I spot an improvement," Jeff said.

"That's great, and I admire your enthusiasm. But, you're creepily interested in our friends' love lives." Nick frankly said. "Didn't you learn anything from the Wes and David thing?"

"Hey!" Jeff pulled back indignantly. "I'm just looking out for their best interests. Wes and David had the potential for an epic romance, thank you very much. The signs were there."

"They're not gay. More like bromance," Nick pointed out.

"Details, details," Jeff griped. "Stop distracting me."

Nick smirked, leaning forward and pulling him closer. He softly pressed his lips to Jeff's, hands trailing up his boyfriend's lean but muscular arms. Jeff relaxed, leaning into the kiss.

"I'm distracting?" Nick said after he pulled back slightly, their lips still brushing together as he spoke.

"Very." Jeff hummed in approval and initiated a second kiss. A few moments passed before he abruptly stopped. "I know what you're doing, Duval!"

Nick chuckled. "We don't need to worry about them. Sweetheart, I'll make you a bet."

"Oooh. Do tell."

* * *

Kurt spread a thick, insulated blanket out on the center of the ice. It was the kind of blanket that they sold in the tiny booths when competitions were held, always found next to the plushies and decorated hair scrunchies. The skater blankets had always been a necessity - His mom used to say that they were like "a snuggie for skaters". Kurt was rarely found on the bleachers without one wrapped around his shoulders - and since he had accumulated many of them over the years, he decided that one could be spared.

The ice was much cleaner than the floor after having been recently smoothed over. He spread out on the blanket, lying on his stomach and using his elbows to prop up his upper body. His English textbook and a composition notebook lay opened in front of him. The sight seemed strange at first, and now nobody at the rink cared if he did this. Alice gave him the green light for it years back. Private hours had ended early that day, so it wasn't like he was in anyone's way - aside from Steve, the zamboni driver who often gave him weird looks.

He wasn't doing this every day, anyways. It was too impractical, as far as timing went.

Homework required focus. Where better to study than where he focused best? Sometimes, Kurt was convinced that the entire ordeal had no actual effect on his grades. At least he was comfortable. At minimum, the location was a good luck charm.

He worked on his assigned essay in silence, listening to the faint humming of the air conditioning. Thirty minutes later, when he finished writing, he buried his face in the blanket.

"Scoot."

He looked up to see Luna hovering over him with her hands placed firmly on her hips. She must've made her way across the ice in her sneakers. After he obliged and moved to the side, she lowered herself down onto the blanket, wriggling around until she was comfortably nestled into his side. The girl was tiny. She occupied little space.

She harshly bit down on her lower lip, staring ahead rather intently until she finally spoke. "I have a problem with this."

"With what?" Kurt feigned ignorance.

"You," she said. "You bottle things up. You haven't talked about what happened. And none of us have been able to fucking fix it."

_Classic Luna_, he thought. He'd known her almost as long as he'd known Jeff. She was always there, through wins and losses. Luna was unique - spunky and blunt. She was a caring and overprotective friend. Her kryptonite? She had a compulsive need to repair, to _finish _things. To the point where it ate her up inside, regardless of if the situation affected her or not. The girl hated feeling helpless. Powerless.

Luna liked computers. She hacked and fiddled with machines. When a device needed fixing, she took it apart and put it back together. She was under the impression that a similar logic applied to humans.

Kurt took a sharp intake of breath. "I'm fine."

"Liar." Her response was instantaneous.

He rolled over, onto his back, one arm thrown over his eyes to protect them from the blinding lights on the ceiling. Kurt knew he had to change the subject before she convinced him to come undone. Before she made him spill his deepest, darkest secrets to her. It wouldn't be the first time. He'd known manipulative people. Luna, though? She knew exactly how to infiltrate a person.

She understood their programming.

"How was your week?" Kurt asked.

She glared. "Peachy. Yours?"

"I met a guy," he said.

Her eyes widened. She gave him a small, barely discernible smile. Her interest was sparked. "Jeff must be having a field day."

"You have no idea."

"Give me details. Do I know him?"

He turned to face her. "I don't know. He goes to Dalton. Came to the rink nearly two weeks ago."

Luna sent him a curious glance. "Bowtie boy?"

"Blaine," he corrected.

"Kurt and Blaine. Blaine and Kurt. That has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"He's probably not gay."

"Sweetie, he's gay. Trust me."

"Don't _stereotype_," Kurt reprimanded her.

"If you don't believe me, ask Jeff," she said whilst absentmindedly examining her nail beds.

Kurt was still considering doing just that, to his shock.

"C'mon. It's getting late. Time to go," she declared, shooting up from her position on the blanket. She held out a hand to help him up. He gathered his books, threw the blanket over his shoulder, and walked carefully off the ice in his shoes.

"Stay cool, Hummel." Luna gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek before she headed out of the lobby, presumably to Crawford.

Kurt stood in the lobby and pulled his phone out of his bag. It was lit up with text alerts. There was one from his dad asking how he was doing, there was the usual few from both Mercedes and Jeff, and one from Rachel.

_Meet me at Breadstix. Friday. What time works for you? We need to talk. - Rachel._

* * *

**Yay! I finally got to write some fluff. I associate Niff with fluff because I see Niff as being one of those nauseatingly adorable couples that nobody wants to go on double dates with.**

**And yes. I named Madge after Rita.**

** :]**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi everybody. Sorry for taking so long to update.**

**A thank you to Jobelle516 for beta-ing this! :]**

**And thanks for the reviews! **

* * *

Blaine thought that Kurt's first week seemed to go somewhat smoothly. He learned that the other boy wasn't quite shy, more like hesitant. He evaluated others at first glance, as if expecting them to judge firsthand, which indicated to Blaine that experience with bullies had conditioned Kurt to react like that. He certainly wasn't unfamiliar with those sorts of situations and understood the distrust. With the addition of Kurt actually having to be professionally judged constantly for skating, he thought it was a miracle that the skater wasn't more cynical than he already was.

It was all a test. Blaine, as ashamed as he was of thinking this way, couldn't help but be elated that he'd somehow passed it.

He was constantly being surprised by Kurt's levels. Underneath the sheer beauty and the skating and even the distrust, there was an entirely different person. Kurt was confident. He wasn't egotistical, but always poised and holding his chin up high. Kurt had things to say and he wasn't afraid to say them. He was passionate about his interests, whether they were skating, music, or the newest covers of Vogue. He was witty, even sharp-tongued and sarcastic at times.

Captivating.

Yes, Blaine was aware of how creepy that sounded in his head. Romantic, but creepy nonetheless.

He was ensnared in his clutches and shocked by how quickly his feelings for the skater were growing. He knew it was crazy, and he simply couldn't bring himself to care. Wouldn't it be better to take a chance, even if he knew that rejection would hurt?

When Blaine spotted Kurt during a passing period, his face lit up and he spontaneously decided upon the route of trying to catch the other student's attention. The main hallway was crowded, so he had to dodge the hurried students in the midst of everything and ended up uttering a string of 'excuse me's' as he avoided collisions.

"K-" He stopped short and clamped his mouth shut as he viewed the scene from a few feet away. Thad, while trying to wriggle his way through the web of other students, was accidentally pushed straight into Kurt's back, causing him to fall forwards and ram into the side of the wall. Kurt's entire body seemed to seize up with tension, his shoulders rising defensively. Almost unnoticeably, his eyes closed tightly for just a moment as he regained his normal posture.

"Hey, are you okay? Sorry. I'm such a klutz sometimes," Thad said, rambling and still trying to gauge Kurt's reaction.

Kurt's eyes widened, as though he was shocked by Thad's words. He gave him a tight, forced smile. "I'm fine." His reply was short, barely heard. Thad apologized again and scurried off.

Blaine just stood in the crowd of other students, having witnessed it. He was known for being prone to oblivion and even he could tell that something was off. That kind of reaction was like looking in a mirror of his former self. The sight took Blaine back to his freshman year. He could almost hear the ghosts of cruel, ignorant taunts being whispered in his ears.

Kurt had been bullied.

The bruise. The jumpiness. The hesitance. The other student cringed almost unnoticeably whenever there was a particularly loud noise. All it took was a simple, accidental slam of a door or a passerby group of boisterous boys to shake him to the core.

Blaine was left with one question.

Why?

He knew that ignorance knew no bounds. Homophobes probably never evaluated Kurt as a person, never really looked at him. While that pissed him off to no end, his feelings weren't going to change anything. Ignorance would always exist in some form or another.

Taking this into consideration, he reduced himself to a cold and detached mindset and thought about it as realistically as possible.

The thing was, Kurt was valuable on the surface too. Blaine personally wasn't intimidated by fact anymore, but even bigots had to admit it. Kurt wasn't just some teenager in the middle of Ohio. He was a national skater, a successful one, and his name was out there. So, why would they risk it? What kind of thick-headed idiots attacked someone who already had some connections to the media? He couldn't help but think that Kurt, in his position, could get them into much more trouble than they were initially in.

Kurt could actually ruin their lives quite easily.

Blaine realized something that instantly made him feel a deep sense of respect for the brunette.

Kurt had the higher power and he was choosing to be the better person. He was choosing to not take advantage of people who bullied him, refusing to stoop to that level.

He had to wonder if he would've done the same.

* * *

Breadstix was, if anything, a place Kurt liked to avoid.

Mainly because of the sub-par breadsticks and the McKinley students who practically littered the place. Yet, there he sat at a booth, propping up his head with his hands and elbows and thinking, _Why __am I here?_

Rachel was late. Rachel, who called for this mysterious meeting in the first place. He had complied because Rachel was dating Finn- and well, he didn't need her banter when she visited his own home.

He was already having a terrible day. Apparently 'overworking oneself' was now, in Alice's book, grounds for temporarily kicking a student out of practice. So? It was true that hours were on the high end after transferring to Dalton, but he _needed_ to skate.

"Kurt."

He let the straw he'd been swirling around with his fingers slowly sink back into his glass of lemonade as he turned his head towards the short, reindeer sweater-clad girl. "Hello, Rachel."

"Your bruise healed nicely," she remarked. _Great_, Kurt thought. _I can always count on you to know the wrong thing to say, Rachel._ _A fantastic way to start this dreaded meeting. _He ended up simply narrowing his eyes at the reminder and decided to ignore her comment. Rachel probably did care a tiny bit, somewhere deep down. He just wasn't in the mood to bother with that, mixed irritatingly with her natural, self-preserving attitude.

She sat on the other side of the booth, obviously staring directly at him. She straightened her back and took on a haughty expression. "You must be wondering why I asked you to come here today," she said.

Kurt arched a brow, disbelieving. He knew exactly why, or at least he was pretty sure of her reasons.

She ignored his pointed look and said, "You're going to join the Warblers." It was a statement, not a question. Yet, she was most definitely trying to reaffirm her suspicions under a mask of confidence about the subject.

"I am," Kurt said, tilting his head to the side a little and casually looking around the restaurant. He wasn't about to let her see any vulnerability. Rachel would go to great lengths to get whatever she wanted. Still, he couldn't help but get a little defensive because he knew what she was about to say. "How does that concern you, exactly?"

"Isn't that betrayal to the New Directions?" she asked.

He scowled, having thought he was done with this. He'd left McKinley. The ties had been cut. "Of course you'd look at it that way," he replied, his voice unwavering.

"Is there any other way of looking at it?" Rachel looked him straight in the eye, her lips tightly pursed.

Kurt sighed. "Kay, listen up and pay attention," he said. "My life and what I do with my free time is none of your concern. I do not feel the slightest bit of guilt for leaving McKinley and you aren't going to be very successful with trying to force me to feel guilt. I am not in _debt_ to you, nor will I ever be. Are we clear?"

She didn't answer, instead opting for retrieving her rhinestone-studded iPad from her purse. She turned it on and swiped her index finger over the screen a few times. Finally, she set it face down on the table with one hand resting lightly over it. "Do you feel guilt for keeping secrets, Kurt?" She slid the device towards him.

Kurt's heart pounded as he tried to keep his composure. He slowly tilted it upward until the screen was visible.

** National Championships: Winners, honorable mentions, and prodigies. What is expected for next year?**

As Kurt scrolled downwards, many pictures popped up in the year-old article. The first one showed the senior-level national champion and the second one was of Kurt smiling next to Alice, holding a huge bouquet of red roses. There were at least a dozen other tabs open on the browser. Each one was a sports article, a video, or a post on one of the skating forums. One linked to the YouTube video of his most recent performance at last year's showcase. Another linked to the most recent article about the bruise.

Rachel knew. How long? How long had she known?

Kurt didn't even know why he was panicked about this. He'd previously been convinced that he needed to be in order to keep himself intact. To retain some sort of solidarity. But really, was it still necessary?

He'd once lead a double life, but it was more of an act than anything. At McKinley, Kurt was an actor. Skating was different. His home life was different. Hell, even Dalton had already managed to bring out the person who was undoubtedly _Kurt_. Rachel didn't know that person. She had no right to presume anything about him.

"How long have you known?" Kurt asked, as calmly as he could manage.

"About five months," she said, looking him straight in the eye. He clenched his fingers around the cuffs of his own sleeves, his knuckles whitening. "I've always found that it's crucial to research potential competitors."

Kurt's lips twitched up slightly at her choice of words. Competitors. She saw him as . . . a threat? Yet, he was always swaying in the background at McKinley. Somehow the knowledge that she saw him as a worthy threat gave him a sick and twisted sort of satisfaction. He was suddenly ready to play this little game of hers. "So, you want a reaction? _Convince me_."

Rachel gave him a shocked look, gaping. Well, what was she expecting?

"Don't you think it's a bit selfish, to want both?" Rachel mumbled, her eyes downcast. "You've already won. You're already on one road to stardom. Isn't that enough?"

_ Oh_, Kurt thought. He knew exactly where the conversation was going. This was about fame, something Rachel had always yearned for. Something she would stop at nothing to achieve.

Kurt almost pitied her.

The thing was, he knew that Rachel was afraid of being stuck. She didn't want to live the life of a 'Lima loser', and she was clinging to anything that might get her out of her current life. Nationals, NYADA… All of it was a ticket. She was letting it go to her head, though. It was slowly making her morals deteriorate and causing her to be increasingly manipulative.

He was curious. Did she still love to sing, or was she simply driven to gain unconditional respect from adoring fans?

"Do you actually think that's why I skate? For stardom?" Kurt asked.

Rachel instantly looked up. "Why else?"

He was reeling. "You seem to see my life as some sugar-coated ideal of yours. Glory is the last thing on my mind. I'm not as self-obsessed as some assume."

"And why is that?" she prodded, narrowing her eyes at him. This was nothing less than an interrogation. "Why do you skate? Is it because of your mom?"

Kurt was irritated. He had been ready to hear her out further, but that was the last straw. "_That_," he said. "Is of course, exactly the kind of assumption you would jump to. The answer is no. My mother has nothing to do with my life choices. We're done here." He had every intent of standing up and leaving the restaurant, only to be stopped by Rachel grabbing his wrist.

"Wait!" she said.

He ripped his wrist out of her grasp and closed his eyes for a few brief seconds, trying to calm down. "You have three minutes," he said, hesitantly sitting back into the booth. There wasn't enough time in his life for these antics.

"An ultimatum. If you join the Warblers, I'll tell the New Directions that you lied." She held the tablet back up, displaying an unsent, New Directions-bound email with every link to his identity.

Ah. Crafty. Nevertheless, this was clearly a last ditch effort on her part. Kurt was feeling confident.

He leaned forward, bracing his chin atop his knuckles. "I didn't lie. You never asked," He paused. That came out sounding far more immature than he meant it to. "I'm not exactly sure of what you hope to gain from this. I'm not in contact with most of the New Directions," Another pause. "You're just trying to spite me, aren't you? Did you maybe stop to consider that I don't care about what people think about me? That a school full of people an hour away from me currently poses no threat? No. You're trying to shake things up. Can't have little old me thinking he's finally found a safe space."

"You clearly didn't want people to know, Kurt," Rachel said, as if she couldn't possibly think of a reason as to why he wouldn't want the attention.

He rolled his eyes. "You want to know the real reason? As terrible as it sounds, I didn't think I was obligated to say anything in the first place. You were all living in this small, narrow-minded world. I had double lives, and you want to know why I never wanted to let them cross? I didn't want the antics at McKinley to ever overlap with what matters most to me." His voice was elevated, rising in annoyance. "It doesn't matter anymore. I've cut ties. If you were really going to say anything, you would've told everyone long ago."

"I'm not bluffing." She sounded defensive.

"Yes, you are," he said, picking up Rachel's iPad again. "But, I'm not. " He tapped the send button and then passed the device back over to Rachel.

There. The email had been sent and the New Directions knew. It was done, and he was over it. It was just another step that had to be taken.

Her eyes widened comically. "Y-you-"

"Happy?" Kurt interrupted her.

She frowned. "Why?"

Kurt settled the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder, preparing to leave. "You never said anything about it to the New Directions before because you were afraid of me interfering with your spotlight. This is a lesson for you, one you'll actually befit from."

On his way out of the restaurant, he looked over his shoulder to say one more thing. "What you're doing is no different from an athlete who takes steroids. I've grown to dislike cheaters over the years, Rachel. If there's anything I've learned, it's that competition makes a person stronger. So earn it. Earn the spotlight, or you'll never actually cherish it."

With that, he turned back around and left the restaurant, unexpectedly feeling more confident than before. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. When he reached his car, he pulled out his phone and then dialed Jeff.

"_Hello._"

"Hey, Jeff. When is the next possible Warblers audition time?"

* * *

"_But all you have to do,_

_Is look at me to know,_

_That every word is true._"

Kurt belted out the last notes of Evita's Don't Cry For Me Argentina. He then just continued to stand there in the middle of the senior commons, waiting for some sort of reaction. Applause. _Okay, fine_, Kurt thought. Kurt could handle clapping, but the lack of verbal response was making him uneasy. Was this some sort of prep school etiquette thing?

Kurt shot a glance towards Nick, hoping to see some sort of realistic response from the level-headed boy. He happened to be mirroring Jeff, who happened to be grinning like a madman.

Blaine was looking at him in a way he couldn't even begin to describe. Kurt blushed and looked away quickly, his eyes traveling to the other occupants of the room. _Wait_, he thought, trying to decipher their expressions. Was that . . . shock? He knew for a fact that his performance had been fine and error-free on a technical scale. They probably thought his voice was too high or girlish.

Then the leader with the gavel, the one who had introduced himself as Wes, practically _choked_.

"C-countertenor," Wes stuttered. "You're a _countertenor_."

"Um, yes," Kurt said, somewhat confused. "Would that be a problem?"

Some of the Warblers immediately spoke up.

"No."

"OhMyGod . . . no."

"Absolutely not."

"Holy shit. That was fantastic." The tall boy he recognized as David chipped in, breaking up the hushed whispers. He faced Wes over the council table and whispered something into his ear. Wes looked up at Kurt, who was now still standing awkwardly in the center of the room.

Jeff let out a small cough, which sounded conspicuously like a snicker. Kurt gave him a questioning glance, only to receive an innocent shrug from the blonde. _Yep_, Kurt thought. The loop had been spun and he was apparently excluded from it- yet again.

Just then a tall, lanky boy from the back of the room piped up excitedly. "He's in, right?"

"According to Warbler tradition, we still have to put it to a vote," Wes said, bringing his attention back to the other Warblers. "All in favor?" Kurt swallowed nervously as he was evaluated by several different pairs of eyes and then his fears dissipated when every hand shot up into the air.

"Welcome to the Warblers, Warbler Kurt."

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**Hope you enjoyed! :)**


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